


Table Manners

by MatrixFairy



Series: Witcher brain children living in the Accidental Warlord AU [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Inspired by The Accidental Warlord and His Pack Series - inexplicifics, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatrixFairy/pseuds/MatrixFairy
Summary: from chapter 4 of "With a Conquering Air":There are other exhibitions after his song: a group of human warriors doing a fast-paced and energetic dance,two Witchers sparring up and down one of the long tables, never putting a foot wrong despite the plates and cups littering the surface,Yennefer and Triss summoning an illusion of a greater dragon to swoop through the hall.
Series: Witcher brain children living in the Accidental Warlord AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057958
Comments: 20
Kudos: 184





	Table Manners

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [With a Conquering Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273713) by [inexplicifics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexplicifics/pseuds/inexplicifics). 



> during one of my many re-readings of With a conquering air I decided to headcanon these two table sparring witchers to be mine and my friend's OCs. took me a some time to actually write this down.

The mess that had ended with Gelibol getting burnt to the ground is still the one that Aeik finds the most harrowing of the White Wolf’s conquests, so far. Largely because it hit a little too close to home. Hearing Jaskier sing about it feels both carthractic and painful. It’s not a pretty tale, but Jaskier isn’t trying to make it one, either. His song describes the victims’ pain and fear, and the witchers’ rage. The song is more warning than story, honestly.

Aeik absently runs a finger along one slightly pointed ear. He’s been the target of prejudice even since before he came to Kaer Morhen and became a witcher. He has vague memories from his early childhood of adults sneering at him and his mother, and other kids yelling filthy names at him that they cannot possibly have known the meanings of, beyond the fact that it was the same words their parents used for him.

The names had continued for another few years after Aeik was brought to Kaer Morhen. He had been the runt of the litter, so to speak, what with him being so much smaller than anyone else his age, so bullying him had somehow been free game. 

Up until _Lambert_ of all people had stepped in and declared Aeik under his protection. He’s two decades Aeik’s senior, and Aeik has never asked him why he did that. He doesn’t exactly expect to get an answer, anyway, if he were to ask. Lambert is far too prickly to do the ‘fucking emotional shit’, as he would call it.

Nowadays, though, no one so much as bats an eye at Aeik’s elven heritage. He’s a witcher as much as anyone else. A _Wolf_ as much as anyone else of his school. Albeit still a very small one. It doesn’t bother him anymore.

Jaskier finishes his song and Aeik cheers and whistles along with everyone else. He makes a mental note to give Jaskier praise in person for the new song, later.

Jaskier retakes his seat at the end of the table, and a group of the human warriors get up next to perform one of their fast paced stomping dances. And once they have done that, Eskel sends a look down the table, and nods at Aeik. He gets up from his seat, picking up the training sword he had put under the table and walks around the Wolf table to the Cat table.

It’s easy to leap up onto the end of the table and start walking down its length. The Cats jeer at him and swipe playfully at his ankles with their table knives. 

At the other end of the table, Lucan gets up from his seat, grabbing a training sword of his own, and climbs up to come meet Aeik. They meet in the middle of the table, plant their feet and raise their swords. Lucan winks, and they’re on. Their swords clash in quick succession, and Aeik begins to drive Lucan backwards. 

They’re moving a bit slower than they would on the training field, but it’s only so they can keep half an eye on the table, and where they put their feet. No need to step in anyone’s dinner, or knock over any cups.

They’re about two thirds of the way down the table when Lucan goes from defense to offense, and suddenly it’s him driving Aeik backwards.

The two of them are fairly evenly matched. Lucan has the advantage of being slightly taller, but Aeik makes up for it with surprising strength. And they’ve been training together long enough to be familiar with each other’s styles.

They continue like this for a moment, sparring up and down the long table, occasionally dancing around each other and swapping places. Not once do they put their feet wrong. If that is by their own skill, or because a Cat witcher yanks a plate or a mug out of the way in the last second, that’s nobody’s business. The Cat witchers continue to cheer them on and occasionally stab at their ankles or feet with various cutlery or daggers, anyway.

The sparring comes to a final halt at a draw in the middle of the table again, Aeik’s sword resting against Lucan’s throat and Lucan’s sword against Aeik’s stomach. 

“Good match, puppy,” Lucan grins.

“You too, kitty,” Aeik grins back. Lucan laughs and pulls his sword away. He walks back to his seat and steps off the table. Aeik decides to follow him, instead of going back up to the Wolf table. He plops himself down in Lucan’s lap and steals his ale mug, draining it. Lucan jabs him in the ribs. Aeik grunts and elbows him, then reaches for a nearby pitcher and refills the mug, handing it back to Lucan.

There’s some more eating and drinking, Yennefer and Triss showing off with magic illusions, and general merrymaking, until finally, Eskel stands and calls an end to the night. Aeik twists around and intends to plant a somewhat messy kiss on Lucan’s face, but Lucan beats him to it and licks him across the cheek.

“Eugh!” Aeik complains and wipes his cheek against Lucan’s shoulder. Lucan laughs and shoves him off his lap.

“Night, night, puppy!” he sing-songs and runs off before Aeik can retaliate. He rolls his eyes fondly, and turns to look for Jaskier, hoping to catch him before he leaves the hall, so he can praise him on the new song. But Jaskier seems to have vacated the hall already, which is odd. He usually lingers for a while.

Maybe it’s something to do with the diplomats. There had been that strangly tense moment when they introduced themselves. 

Aeik shrugs to himself and heads off to his room. He can catch Jasker sometime tomorrow instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Aeik is my smol half elven wolf witcher and Lucan is my good friend's cat witcher. they're bffs.
> 
> i'm on tumblr @finegoddamnit


End file.
